Disuphere Universe miniseries: The Early Years: Frankie
Lena’s working at Anchor Beach Charter School as the assistant vice principal when she first meets Stefanie Foster and her son, Brandon.
She had then down in her calendar. September 3, 2001. She never expected them to be anything more than a prospective student, and a prospective parent of a student. But something was there between them. Lena could feel it.
A spark, upon that introduction.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Hi, I’m Lena Adams, the assistant vice principal.”
“Hi, I’m Stef Foster,”
Their handshake lasted a little too long. Neither one could look away from the other. In the end, professionalism won out, and Lena focused on what she was here to do.
Next, she introduced herself to Brandon. A quiet boy with brown hair and serious green eyes. He offered a shy, “hi,” at Stef’s prompting but not much more than that.
He passed the kindergarten proficiency exam with flying colors.
“Welcome to Anchor Beach,” she told them both at the end of the visit.
--
Over the next few months, when Stef arrived to pick up Brandon from school, she hung around. They’d had a few conversations, but as Brandon was an exceptionally good student and a sweet boy, there had no need for conferences or meetings about academic or conduct issues.
Still, Lena sensed that Stef was coming up with questions specifically so she would have an excuse to speak to Lena. She’s twenty-six, and has been around the block a few times - knows what it looks like when she’s being flirted with.
But Lena also knows that Stef hesitated when Lena asked if her husband would be joining them. She has a ring line, but no ring. And Brandon talks about his “Mom and Dad” all the time. In the same sentence.
So when Stef drops by again in December, leaning on the car in the parking lot, Lena has got to set her straight:
“I’m not doing this. I’m not. I’m not getting involved with a married woman. Women like you, you are just passing through, but this is where I live, Stef.”
Stef, though, surprises her. Admitting she’s told her ex-husband, her father and most of her friends that she’s a lesbian. She called Lena “a woman that I can’t live without.”
And Lena made room in her house. Converted her office to a bedroom for Brandon in a hurry.
They moved in just in time for Christmas.
--
On Christmas night, Stef gets a call.
“It’s work, I knew it…” Brandon sighs, knowing.
“It’s work. You’re right. Be back soon, B. Be a good boy for Lena.” Stef urges.
“I will,” Brandon nods.
That night at home isn’t much different than any other. Brandon doesn’t want to take a shower, because he wants to keep playing with his Christmas toys, but Lena convinced him with the promise of watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas again.
“You’re not my real mom, you know?” Brandon said, looking at her quizzically after Lena draped an arm around him on the couch. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to…” Lena had ventured, feeling stung but determined. “But can I?”
“You are right now,” Brandon points out. “I’m trying to watch this,” he says, scooting to the end of the couch.
When the movie ends, Lena tucks Brandon into bed. “You know... before my dad got married to my mom? He was married to someone else. They had a son.”
Brandon listens.
“His name is Nate, and he’s my older brother, but he never treated me like family. He was mean to me. Mean to my mom.”
“Probably, ‘cause he just wanted his life to go back to how it was before. When it was him and his dad and his own mom. Having another mom or dad? It just makes you miss yours more.”
“Is that why you don’t want me to cuddle you?” Lena asks.
“No… ‘Cause, what if my dad finds out and he gets really sad? We used to sit together and watch TV.”
“Does it bother you that I put my arm around you?” Lena wonders.
Brandon shrugs. He wipes his eyes. “It just makes me miss Daddy,” he says, lying down to face the wall. “Night, Lena.”
“Good night, Brandon. Merry Christmas.”
Lena passes the time picking up the house and waiting for Stef. She’s in bed by the time Lena hears the key in the lock. Hears the keys set down, feels the bed give as Stef crawls in and whispers:
“I had to help take a kid from their family on Christmas night…”
Lena rolls over. “Oh, God. Honey, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“I am. I just...couldn’t stop thinking the whole night, you know, we’ve gotta do something about this…”
“Like what?” Lena wonders, lost.
“Well...what if we went through the process? Became licensed foster parents?” Stef asks.
Lena smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s been hoping they’ll talk about options. Options that will lead to pregnancy. So that Lena can know the joy Stef experienced with Brandon. Carrying a baby. Birthing a baby. If anything, her conversation and interaction with Brandon tonight just made the thoughts grow stronger:
Lena wants - has always wanted - to be a biological mother to someone. To have those family ties that Stef already has.
But she keeps quiet. Shelves the dream for the time being.
And they move forward.
Nine months later, after a conversation with now 6 year old Brandon, they start the process. Take the classes.
Lena Adams is about to venture into foster parenting.
--
February 1, 2004, Lena’s entire world tilts. Everything spills off it’s surface, including her, and she is left clinging to its edge.
Because that’s the day Stef goes to work in the morning, as usual, and comes back in the evening with twins: Mariana and Jesus Gutierrez. They’re five years old and nothing like the lost four-year-old they fostered for 24 hours. Nothing like the sweet newborn baby they loved and gave a home to for 8 months.
They go from silent and watchful to wild in five seconds flat. Mariana tells Lena, “You have black hair like our real mom,” and her heart breaks a little.
At this rate, it feels like Lena will not be anybody’s ‘real mom.’
--
Four years later, and Lena is reeling. They somehow had managed to adopt Jesus and Mariana after a tumultuous two and a half years, where they were bounced back and forth to their bio mom’s custody and came back to them more hurt each time.
They’d had 8 months of relative peace, living in their new home on Villa Mariposa, when Jesus disappeared the first week of fourth grade.
It’s like a nightmare that won’t end.
The last thing she ever expects is for another sibling pair to show up in November of 2008. Eleven year old Callie and seven year old Jude, of course, deserve a home, and safety and permanency, but every time Lena lets herself think of talking about insemination? About possibly getting pregnant? There are more foster kids.
And Lena can’t think about foster kids without thinking about Jesus, out there somewhere. Or not out there anywhere. Both possibilities devastate Lena because of her own guilt over not knowing he was missing.
That, combined with the feeling that her dream is about to wither and die has Lena lashing out at Stef one night, when all the kids are at Mom and Dad’s for the night.
“Really? Did you really think putting our names back on the board at the agency was the way to go, Stef?” Lena seethes.
“I’m sorry. I thought we made that decision together,” Stef snaps.
“After we adopted one of the kids from that system and lost him.” Lena insists.
“We didn’t lose him, Lena. He… Something happened. It’s not our fault.” Stef tries.
“I never thought we’d be here again. With more foster kids, after all this…” Lena manages, holding back tears.
“Lena, what’s wrong, love?” Stef asks, coming to her in the kitchen.
“Do you know...how long...I’ve wanted a baby?’ Lena sniffs.
Stef’s mouth opens. She glances around confused. “We have babies, love. We have...so many babies…”
(Lena doesn’t miss how Stef skirts around having to assign a number to just how many children they have. Because what do they say? Five? Four? 1 biological, 1 adopted, 2 fostered and 1 lost?)
“I mean...I want to carry a baby, Stef. I want to have a baby. Myself. Our baby. You got to have Brandon, and I just...ever since I moved in with you...I thought..we’d have the conversation, and I just…” Lena breaks down.
Stef holds her as she cries.
“I love our family. I love our kids. But it’s not the family I imagined. It’s not complete yet. I want to have a baby…”
“We can’t replace Jesus, Lena,” Stef warns gentle.
“No. This is...I’ve wanted this baby since before Jesus. I’ve wanted this baby my entire life, Stef.”
“Our life is so complicated already, honey. Are you sure you want this? What if...what if Jesus comes back someday? What will he think if he sees we’ve moved on? With a baby, no less…”
“You didn’t have any of these concerns bringing Callie and Jude into the house…” Lena points out.
“Because they came the way he and Mariana did,” Stef explains, impatient. “He’d understand.”
“Is it Jesus you’re worried about in this scenario, or is it you? Do you not want me to have a baby?”
“I want you to have everything you want. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t have a baby,” Stef remarks, sighing. “So, what do we do next?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Lena says, drying her tears.
--
It’s harder than Lena expects, looking at potential donors on a screen and trying to discern who would be best based on the most basic facts. Not only that, she’s been hoping that with time, Stef will come around to the idea. Be a bit more enthusiastic about expanding the family. But even looking at potential donors online, Stef has reservations. Wants a donor who shares more of her own “characteristics.”
“You mean white,” Lena points out, disappointed.
“And smart, and charming,” Stef starts to list.
“The thing is, Stef, I’m half-white. So if we look for a donor who is also white, the baby won’t end up looking like me at all. Not that it has to look like me, it’s just…”
“No, no… African-American, it is,” Stef says, less than thrilled.
“You have Brandon,” Lena tells Stef quietly. “Honey, you see yourself every day in him. Callie and Jude are white. And I’m the only one who...who’s biracial.”
“The twins are biracial,” Stef points out, before she can stop herself.
“Stef, that’s not the point. This is important to me. To have someone in the family who’s like me. Can’t you see that?” (But maybe she can’t. Maybe Stef has never been the only one in her family.)
“I can see that. I told you, it’s fine. You’re having the baby, Lena. You choose the donor. I’m just along for the ride.”
“No, you’re not. You’re not just along for the ride. You’re going to be this baby’s mom. And I want you involved. I want you on board. Can you do that, please? Can you be happy for me?” Lena all but begs.
“That you wanna have a baby that looks nothing like me? Sure. I’m thrilled, Lena.” Stef snaps, quiet.
Before she can say anymore, Stef stands up and leaves her office. So much for having lunch together.
--
It doesn’t take long for Lena to decide the anonymous donor site is just too impersonal. Wants to know the kind of person the father is.
That’s how Lena settles on Timothy. He’s an English teacher at Anchor Beach. Smart. Funny. Kind. All qualities she hopes for her own baby to possess. But getting Stef behind this development is harder still.
“You think I want you going to work every day and seeing our baby’s father?” Stef hisses.
“Kinda like you see Mike?” Lena pushes back.
“That’s different, and you know it. Our life has enough challenges in it right now. Do you really want to open the door to someone else in our lives? In our baby’s life?”
“If it means knowing our child’s history? Yes,” Lena says definitively. “You know how many questions Mariana and Callie and Jude have about their biological parents. About characteristics they can’t place. Wouldn’t it be nice to have answers for one child. This child?”
Stef wavers. “For medical reasons...yes. I’ll give you that. But, Lena, if Timothy thinks saying yes to this means he gets to be involved in parenting decisions? Gets to visit? Anything like that? No. I think we need to have him sign a contract. Keep things official.”
Lena blows out a breath. “We can’t lose another one. You’re right. This way, we’ll know the history, but be protected from potential attempts at involvement down the road.”
--
In August, 2009, Callie and Jude’s adoption is finalized.
Lena invites Timothy to the party. With all the other guests, he’ll blend in, and he’ll be able to slip away and do his thing undetected.
She smiles and hugs Callie and Jude, all the while feeling the odd mix of the ache at Jesus’s absence and the excitement at the possibility of their family growing again.
--
On October 16, 2009, two months after Callie and Jude are officially Adams Fosters, Lena talks to Stef, and they make the decision to tell the kids.
Lena’s just over two months along. Her belly’s swelling slightly already. She’s been to the doctor. Knows it measures an inch in length. It’s in there. Her baby is in there.
“Kids, we have something to tell you,” Stef says. She pauses once she has all of their attention. Nods at Lena.
“I’m going to have a baby…” Lena says, hesitating.
“How?” Callie blurts. “I mean, don’t you need a man for that?”
“She means adopting, right? That’s how all the kids come into this family,” Brandon remarks, dryly.
“Two girls can’t have a baby, right, Callie?” Jude asks.
“No,” Callie shakes her head. “I think Brandon’s right. I think they’re adopting.”
“Are you?” Mariana presses. “Adopting? Or what do you mean?”
“I mean… There are ways that two mommies can have a baby if they want to. There are nice men out there who want to help.”
Brandon coughs. “...Timothy…”
“Excuse me?” Stef asks.
“What? He was in your bathroom. Not exactly subtle, Moms…”
“I mean…” Lena repeats. “I’m...pregnant…”
“No way…” Mariana’s in awe, as Lena nods. “Seriously, you are? When is it coming?”
“The end of June,” Lena says, smiling. Mariana and Jude are thrilled. Callie and Brandon are more reserved.
“Where will it sleep?” Callie asks. “Not in Jesus’s room…”
All eyes turn toward her.
“No. Not in Jesus’s room. That stays as it is. We’re not replacing your brother. Understood, my babies?” Stef checks.
Four heads bob up and down.
“Okay. Now, let’s finish our dinner before it gets cold.” Stef says.
--
Starting in December, Lena develops some scary complications. Heavy bleeding. She’s terrified that at just 20 weeks, she’s losing the baby. But an ultrasound shows that its still there.
No, not it.
She.
The ultrasound tech accidentally gender-revealed on what almost was the worst night of Lena’s life. Right up there next to the first night Jesus was missing.
They think of names. Lena wants more than anything for Stef to feel a part of this process. A part of this baby’s life.
“Why don’t you name her?” Lena offers.
“Me? I’m awful at picking names. Back when Brandon was born? I’d made a foolish promise to my dad that if he was a boy, I’d name him Frank. He’s never forgiven me for not following through on that…”
“That could work…” Lena ventures.
“You wanna name our daughter Frank?” Stef laughs. It’s been forever since Lena’s heard her laugh.
“Francesca?” Lena asks. “Frankie, for short?”
“Well, that...is…” Stef manages, clearing her throat. “That is kinda cute. And my dad would be over the moon. Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Hey Frankie,” Stef calls softly into Lena’s belly. “It’s your mom. Do us a favor and stay inside a few more months. We really wanna meet you.”
--
As much as Lena tries to do absolutely everything the doctors recommend, the bleeding episodes continue. Finally, at the very end of February, Lena’s hospitalized with four months of the pregnancy to go.
It’s boring.
Agonizing to be away from the kids. From Stef.
But it’s also a break, from constant stress. She finds herself catching up with friends, and her mom. Getting rest she’s needed for the last two years.
Frankie is monitored closely. She’s growing. Her heart rate is strong. But she needs to make it to at least 28 weeks if she’s gonna have a chance at surviving.
So Lena prays.
And waits.
--
Frankie listens to Lena, but only just. On the morning of April 2nd, 2010, 28 weeks along, Lena bleeds again and Frankie goes into distress. They do an emergency C-section at 9:30 AM. Stef is at work.
(They’re expecting this in a bit less than three months, not now.)
Francesca Rose Adams Foster weighs 2 pounds, 4 ounces. She is 12 inches long.
By the time anyone can alert Stef about what’s happening, it’s been hours. Lena hasn’t been able to see Frankie.
And by the time she can? Lena is not sure she wants to. At least, not alone.
Stef comes, hours later, shocked at the turn of events, but glad that Lena and Frankie are okay for the time being.
“I kinda wanted to cut the cord,” Stef admits, quietly to Lena.
“I know.” Lena nods.
“I’ll bring the kids by soon. So they can see her.” Stef promises.
“Maybe you should wait. You know? Until Frankie is stronger?” Lena ventures.
--
Days turn to weeks.
The first time Lena can hold Frankie, she is terrified. The NICU is full of babies just as small as Frankie - even smaller sometimes. Even sicker. There are monitors beeping and Lena’s anxiety goes off the charts whenever a baby goes into distress because what if that was Frankie?
Lena’s terrified to hold her daughter because she’s so small. Because of the wires and tubes. Because they’ve made sure it’s dark and very quiet, and urged Lena not to speak, because babies this small can become overstimulated easily.
She spends the whole time praying Frankie will not break.
--
Lena is released but Frankie is not.
Weeks turn to months. They finally manage to get all four kids to the hospital to visit.
Mariana comes whenever she is allowed, hating that she has to have an adult with her. She’s constantly asking who is with Frankie. Insisting that she shouldn’t be left alone.
“You know, that happened to Jesus and me…” she ventures, quiet, upon learning that Frankie’s by herself with no parents around for the time being.
“Miss Thang, being neglected is not the same thing as what’s happening to Frankie now. She’s resting. She needs quiet. If she were home, she’d need to sleep a lot, too.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Mariana sighs cryptically. “Can I go be with her? Please? I’ll be quiet, I swear,” Mariana begs.
“Honey, kids aren’t allowed in the NICU unaccompanied.” Lena says apologetically.
“So, accompany me. I’m twelve now. Maybe if they knew that, they’d let me in alone.”
“No, honey, I don’t think so…” Lena tells her.
Mariana pouts.
“Come on. Let’s go together,” Lena encourages, taking Mariana’s hand.
“You know, Jesus and I were here,” Mariana says when they arrive at the window to the NICU.
“What do you mean?” Lena asks.
“When we were babies. We were early like Frankie. We were alone. In a place like this with a lot of beeping,” she shudders.
“Mariana, that was a long time ago. Just because this is Frankie’s story doesn’t mean it’s yours. You have your own story.” Lena says, trying to reassure her.
“But that is my story,” Mariana says, hurt. She turns to look at Lena. “Why do you think I keep asking to see Frankie? It’s because I know what it was like. We both do. It’s lonely.”
“Mariana. There is no way a baby can remember that far back, okay?” Lena sighs. “And I feel bad enough that we can’t get here as often as I’d like to, so let’s just enjoy the time we have with Frankie, okay? No more stories?”
Mariana sighs, and walks up to the incubator, in a yellow paper gown. Sticks her hand in the hole in the side of the plastic incubator, offering a gloved finger for Frankie to grasp.
“It’s Mari. I’m your big sister. It’s okay. You’re not alone. I’ll come as much as I can, okay? I promise.”
Lena watches, amazed as tiny, two month old Frankie squeezes Mariana’s finger.
--
Frankie comes home a month later. She’s small as a newborn at 3 months old.
It’s just before Callie’s thirteenth birthday, and she says she already got her birthday wish.
“Why? You never visited her,” Mariana accuses, cradling Frankie.
“Hey, hey, this is supposed to be a happy time. Mariana, share Francesca with the rest of the family please, love,” Stef advises.
Reluctantly, Mariana passes her to Callie.
--
Lena finds herself grieving hard on the day Francesca turns 1.
Jesus has been gone over three and a half years. And though none of them have any plans to touch his room, magical thinking that has led them to keep it like a time capsule seems to have done nothing. It doesn’t look like their sweet boy is ever coming back.
He’ll never meet his sister.
Never see her take a handful of cake with her bare hand and offer it to Mariana, saying “Ah-na-na!” sweetly as she offers it.
Mariana takes the cake crumbs from her baby sister, beaming. “Thank you so much, Frankie! Oh my gosh, did you guys hear that?” she asks, her brown eyes bright with tears. “Her first word was my name.” Mariana turns back to Frankie, who caresses Mariana’s cheek with a cakey fist. “Your brother’s first word was my name, too,” she tells Frankie softly. “Your brother, Jesus.”
Frankie grins.
Mariana grins back, cake in her hands. Tears on her face.
--
The following year, so much has changed.
Jesus has been home for five months. They’ve lived in the house successfully as a family of eight for just three.
Frankie is has a CP diagnosis that Lena still feels is probably her fault, more often than not.
On Frankie’s second birthday, Jesus hides in his room, headphones on. He’s still ridiculously small for nearly fourteen. Lena and Stef want to be able to have a nice family party but they know by now that holidays and birthdays are hard on Jesus. That it’s best for all of them to just leave him be.
Lena walks Frankie to Jesus’s doorway, holding her hands and peers inside the beads. Now the presents have been cleaned up, the cake’s been eaten and all the guests are gone, the house is notably quieter.
Still, Lena’s disappointed to find Jesus rocking himself back and forth hard against his bedroom wall.
She knows Stef would go inside and physically stop Jesus from doing this but she has Frankie. She can’t risk her baby’s safety. There’s so much they don’t yet know about Jesus and what he’s capable of.
“Jesus, can you come here, please?” Lena asks.
He doesn’t respond.
“Frankie, you wanna tell Jesus what you got for you birthday, love?” Lena asks her daughter.
“Toys!” Frankie cries happily. “Buddy, toys!”
Jesus blinks. Stops rocking slowly. “What kinda toys?” he asks, standing up and approaching them cautiously.
“See?” Frankie asks, showing off a new stuffed animal.
“Yeah, I see,” Jesus nods. “Happy birthday,” he offers. “Birthday hug?”
Lena’s about to object when Frankie thrusts out her arms and lunges for Jesus.
“Okay, buddy,” he says, taking her in his arms as gently as ever, and giving her a squeeze. “I’m glad I get to be home for your birthday,” he whispers.
Frankie slobbers on Jesus’s cheek, her approximation of a kiss.
Jesus smiles.
--
When Frankie turns three there is no party. Not one at home anyway. Mom decides to throw one at her house, to spare Jesus the trauma of party decorations and guests. It sounds over the top, and Lena hates how he removes himself from everything that might be remotely fun and family-oriented.
She gets that he can’t help it, but once in a while it would just be nice, to be able to be a regular family, not Stef and Jesus at home and the rest of them here watching Frankie open her new doctor kit and enjoying cake and pizza afterward.
Lena wonders if their family will ever be the same again?
--
On the day Frankie turns 4, she comes into Lena and Stef’s room early and tries to climb into their bed. Something hard smacks Lena in the face.
“Ouch. What is going on?” She blinks awake seeing Frankie’s leg brace lying beside her own head. The straps, previously white are now bright with color.
“Francesca Rose, why does your brace look like this?” Lena asks.
“It’s my birthday brace! Jesus made it for me! He’s my best buddy! See? It gots all my favorite colors! Purple and green, and orange and red, and yellow and pink and brown and---”
“Honey, I see that, but you need that to walk. It’s not a toy to color on. We’re gonna talk to Jesus about that. And I’m going to see what I can do about cleaning this off…”
“No, I like it,” she pouts. “Don’t clean it.”
Lena pauses. Scoops Frankie up on the bed with her. “You like it?” she asks, because better to keep her talking. Jesus did not have a tolerance for fits children threw. And Frankie doesn’t have the self-control yet to avoid them altogether.
“Yes,” Frankie says, touching one strap lovingly.
“Why do you like it?” Lena wonders.
“‘Cause it’s nice and fun. It’s like me. The other way makes me different.”
“It’s okay to be different,” Lena tells Frankie honestly.
“I know, but this way makes me better-different,” Frankie explains. “This is my best birthday present,” she says, clutching the brace. “I’m gonna go show Mariana!”
“Happy birthday, Frankie,” Lena calls after her.
“Happy birthday, Mama! Bye! See you later!” Frankie returns, her voice light.
“See you later,” Lena echoes, feeling something in her heart mend.
She’s finally someone’s Mama.
It’s not exactly the way Lena imagined, but it’s perfect, nonetheless.